Often, I’ll give the kids an ultimatum when they’re complaining about their options and I’ll say, “You want this, or do you want nothing?” They might be trying to get two cookies, or three, and I’ll say, “You want one? Or none?” (They almost always go for 'one.')

Today my five-year-old was trying to give her two-year-old sister that same ultimatum over some cereal the younger wasn’t eating, but she wasn't getting the math quite right.

“Sabine – do you want zero, or none?”

She kept repeating it in a stern voice. “Zero? Or None??”

I thought, what a great name for a company – “Zero or None Productions.”

I also imagined a satirical skit where some mobster is laying down the law for a bunch of lackeys. “Hey, fellas…youze guys got two options. Zero? Or None?”

One guy yells out, “Zero!”

And another nudges him in the ribs, muttering, “You idiot.” Then he calls out, “None!”

And so on.

In other news at the breakfast table this morning, I was alternately spoon-feeding my youngest her Kix cereal while I was shielding my orange slices she was trying to steal (she’d already eaten a whole orange and half of mine). It struck me that eating at the table with my kids is a cross between being at a prison and a nursing home. On the one hand you’re protecting your shit from being jacked, on the other hand, you’re spoon-feeding the reluctant mouths of people who have a habit of pooping in their pants.